The Blackest of Lies
by MandaPanda2
Summary: This lie wasn't just for him. It was for their entire family.
1. Better Than Spain

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Aaron Spelling, E. Duke Vincent, Gary Tomlin, NBC, et al and are used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes.  
Rating: T  
Genre: Drama  
Spoilers: Everything through Episode 134, then it becomes AU  
Summary: This lie wasn't just for him. It was for their entire family.

_A/N: This was originally going to be a one-shot story called "Better Than Spain", but it has evolved into a little bit more. _

* * *

Chapter One: "Better Than Spain"

_A lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies._ \- Alfred Lord Tennyson

Olivia turned her head to the nightstand, drawn to the red glow of the numbers on the digital clock. Nearly four in the morning. She wasn't exactly surprised to be awake. She fell asleep in the car, slumped against Gregory as he drove them to Carmel. He teased her when they finally arrived at the hotel that she made a horrible co-pilot, the same way he would joke with her on their drives to Tahoe when the children were younger. Now, she was content to flash him a bashful smile and let him think that was all it was. He didn't need to suspect there was another reason for her constant inability to stay awake as of late.

She turned away from the clock, listening to the sounds around her. From far away was the sound of Carmel Bay, the waves crashing against the rocks at the base of the cliffs. Far nearer was the deep and steady sound of Gregory's breathing. He was pressed to her, his heavy arm stretched across her chest in such a way that made inhaling a challenge. The door had barely closed behind the bellboy when her husband pulled her against him and kissed her with a ferocious hunger that made her forget how tired she felt.

At least we made it to the bed, she thought to herself as she lazily combed his hair with her fingers. He was curled up against her, easily sated by the throes of passionate love making. She kissed his head and gently pulled the sheet over him. He mumbled something unintelligible as he turned his face into her shoulder and hugged her tighter. She smiled to herself, feeling delightfully needed by him. He didn't often cling to her. Even in sleep, Gregory Richards rarely surrendered. But not tonight. She closed her eyes and rested her chin on his head. He was exhausted. He'd never admit it, but he was. It wasn't just because of the five hours it took them to get to Carmel. It was the last six months. They'd been an absolute nightmare. Del's murder. Caitlin's burgeoning independence. Sean's surgery. Cole. Elaine's trial.

Worrying about _her_.

She bit the corner of her lip and gently squeezed him deeper into her embrace. Her affair with Del. Being a suspect in the murder investigation. Her drinking. Now, her "ulcer".

"What's wrong?" he murmured, sleep clinging to his question.

She slowly opened her eyes. "W-what?" They were still, his body warm against hers.

"You heard me."

She shook her head, even though he was oblivious to the gesture. "Nothing," she whispered. "Go back to sleep, darling."

With a deep sigh, he slowly pushed himself up and slipped out of her embrace. Her arms immediately mourned his absence as he looked back at her with glazed eyes. His fingers danced against her cheek as he leaned in and softly kissed her. She sighed against his lips, instantly remembering the early days of their relationship when kissing was a cherished pastime. "What's wrong?" he asked again, nuzzling her throat.

She swallowed hard, watching as he looked up and waited patiently. A half-truth – another one of her _lies_ – came out of her. "I'm sorry for earlier."

"When earlier?"

She shrugged nervously as his fingers threaded through hers. "When Annie was at the house. For going on about Del." They had forgotten to close the curtains when they arrived. That was why a shaft of moonlight fell on the bed. That was how she could see the way his face fell and his tired eyes looked away. "It was-"

"Stop." The lone syllable echoed between them as he made eye contact with her again. Deep frown lines crisscrossed his face as he shook his head. "Just...stop."

A sick feeling coursed through her as she heard the tired strain in that one word. Her own words came back to her, the reason for the pain in his voice. _A shallow spoiled brat like you couldn't begin to understand what attracted me to your father!_ Would there ever be a way to be forgiven? "I'm sorry," she whispered over the painful lump in her throat. "I-" He exhaled deeply and she reached out, cupping his face. "I wish it never happened."

"But, it did," he sighed. She nodded stupidly, her throat aching. "It did and...well, it did." Del was dead, but he was still a shadow over them. Haunting them. It seemed fitting that she was the keeper of the Deschanel jewels now. She was just as cursed as them. After all those years of mindless sex with other men in an attempt to return the hurt of her husband's infidelities, she now wanted nothing more than to take them all back. Of course, none of them hurt her husband _quite_ as much as the one with Del did. (No matter what lie she spun Annie, that had been the _real_ attraction to him.)

"Gre-" she began. Not that she was quite sure what she was going to say. What _could_ she say? Del was a mistake. He meant nothing. All of my affairs meant nothing. You're the one I love. You're the _only_ one I love. "I-"

"Enough," he hissed as his hand clenched down on hers. She felt his jaw tense as he looked back at her, his eyes pleading. "I won't – I _can't_ – keep talking about this. Not this weekend. Not _ever_." She suddenly remembered her Shakespeare. Even as a teenager suffering through his works, she felt it sad that cursed women were always the downfall of their strong and seemingly invincible husbands. Tears burned at her eyes as she nodded. "I just want...a fresh start."

A new beginning. A clean slate. He could only say that – _want_ that – because he thought he knew everything. He thought Del was the worst it could get. He was mercifully unaware of Cole. Of her pregnancy. That he might _not_ be the father of her child. The sad irony was that _nothing_ would be more of a fresh start for them than a new baby. Caitlin and Sean bonded them in a way she never thought possible. A third child would too.

If only this baby was _theirs_.

"I do too," she murmured as he slowly leaned back against her, his head again finding her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, as if her embrace could somehow protect him from the truth. He married a cursed woman. She was going to be his downfall. But, maybe...just maybe a lie could _save_ them. After all these years, what was one more? If it was a lie that would make him happy, wasn't it worth it? Wasn't it justified? They never planned on just two children. If she was going to be raising a teenager at sixty, she only wanted to do it with Gregory at her side. "Darling," she began, feeling as if she was falling down a dark hole of no return as her head spun. He was resting against her – could he feel her thundering heart? She licked her suddenly dry lips and tried again. "Darling, I- I want to tell you something."

He must have heard something in her tone because he leaned up again. His hair flopped over onto his forehead and she couldn't help but smile. The rest of the world could be intimidated by him during the day when he stormed around in expensive suits and barked orders. They didn't get to see him like this: sleepy and vulnerable. That privilege was hers and hers alone. "What?" he asked, returning her smile with a tired one of his own.

She nodded, still arguing with herself. If Gregory could will himself into forgetting about Del, couldn't she do the same with Cole? She could make herself _believe_ it never happened. This child would be Gregory's in every way that mattered. If he never suspected otherwise, the news of this child would please him as much as the news of Caitlin and Sean's impending arrivals. It would give them the fresh start they both desperately wanted. As for Cole, she knew he wanted to forget their brief affair as much as she did. If he loved her daughter as much as he claimed, he'd let their past fade into the shadows where it belonged.

"Liv, what is it?" A nervous giggle rose in her throat as she watched him. Confusion swam in his eyes and she felt his leg slip in between hers. "Hmm?"

"This is better than Spain, isn't it?" she sighed as he shifted against her. She heard him chuckle as he lazily kissed his way along her collarbone. This lie wasn't just for him. It was for their _entire_ family. She was going to keep them all together if it killed her. She wasn't seeing them destroyed. Not now. Not when the four of them were _finally_ at peace. With both hands, she cupped his face and forced his gaze to her.

"_That's_ what you wanted to tell me?" he asked. She wasn't deaf to the skepticism in his question.

"You went to the trouble of planning a romantic trip for us...and I couldn't go," she whispered.

His cheeks were warm as he shook his head and turned his face into her touch. "Don't worry about it," he said, pressing a kiss to her palm. "We'll reschedule our reservation."

It was now or never. With a quick inhale, she asked in a soft whisper, "But, what if I told you we'd need to wait awhile?"

He chuckled and leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her mouth. "I don't think Spain's going anywhere."

"And, what if I told you we'd need to request a suite in a quiet part of the resort?"

"Whatever you want," he promised, his mouth brushing against her own.

With the taste of him on her lips, she sighed his name. He looked up, their eyes meeting as she whispered, "And, what if I told you we'd need to bring the baby with us?" She felt the length of his body tense against hers. She saw the way he blinked. She heard the breath that died in his throat.

"What?"

She followed him with her eyes as he sat up, rubbing his face awake. The sheet fell away, the silver moonlight bathing his naked body. She smiled patiently as she pushed herself up and reached for him. He clung to her hand, squeezing tightly as she let a simple lie unfold between them. She hadn't been feeling well for some time. She thought it was just a flu her body couldn't fight. The doctor explained otherwise after her blood work came back from the lab.

"But, the ulcer...your blood pressure..." he interrupted as he gently pulled her against him.

"I had to tell Caitlin _something_ after I fainted," she lied. It would be easy enough to tell their daughter to pretend to be surprised when they announced the pregnancy. They'd let Gregory think he was the first person to know about the baby. After all, he was the first one to know when she was pregnant before. He cupped her face, watching her with a wondrous expression that made her heart skip. "I was waiting for the right time to tell you," she confessed – _another_ half-truth – as he gazed at her, "and of course, _no_ time seemed like the right time."

He shook his head, his thumbs rubbing against her cheekbones. "But, you're alright? The baby's alright?" She nodded, his relieved sigh a balm to her beautiful lies. "The baby," he marveled, chuckling to himself. She watched him quietly, feeling the pride and delight radiating from him. She smiled briefly when their eyes met again before forcing herself to look away. "What is it?" he asked, gently turning her face back to his.

She shrugged, needing to kill any lingering questions about why she waited so long to tell him, as she said, "I wasn't sure- that is, we always _wanted_ a houseful of children, but..."

He sighed, a frown tempering the pride. "Things didn't exactly turn out how we planned," he finished for her and she nodded slowly. He leaned his forehead against hers, sighing deeply. "Were you afraid to tell me?"

More than he could imagine. "A little," she lied. She winced internally when she saw the flash of sadness on his face. "But, things have been well between us for the first time in such a _long_ time that-"

He cupped her face and looked back at her with such intensity that she shivered. "I want this, Liv," he said solemnly and she couldn't help the thrilled smile that curled her mouth. As her arms went around his neck, his words wrapped around her like an embrace. "You, this new baby, Caitlin, Sean. It's all I want. All I _need_." She nodded as he pressed his lips to her forehead for a long moment. It was a gesture that was nearly enough to make her feel...redeemed. "How far along are you?"

She felt his hand fall to her still-flat stomach. "Almost four months," she said vaguely.

He nodded before he turned his gaze to her abdomen. She leaned against him, letting the weight of his hand suggest this lie _might_ be the right thing. Several moments of blissful silence went by before he sighed deeply. She tensed and slowly looked up, hoping he couldn't see the fear in her eyes. "That night on the sofa," he mused finally and she bit back a relieved sigh.

She covered his hand with her own and squeezed it, catching his attention. As he looked up, she suggested, "We weren't at our best then, were we?" She leaned back into the feather pillows, letting the silence answer her question. Gently, she held out her arms, waiting until he lay back in her embrace. "But, the baby _more_ than makes up for it. Something good came out of that awful night."

She felt him nod as his palm returned to her stomach. "Yes," he sighed, his breath warm against her flesh. She ran her fingers gently through his hair, giving in to the calm stillness of the night. It was all going to be alright. Everything was going to work out. "When we get home, we'll go see the doctor – together."

"Yes, darling."

"We have to tell the children." A moment later, she heard him chuckle.

"What's that for?" she asked softly.

"We're going to be the only parents at Sean's graduation with a graduate _and_ an infant."

With a laugh, she squirmed lower in the bed until her face was even with his. The sight of his boyish grin was enough to convince her that this lie was right. This lie would save her marriage. This lie would save her family.

She and Gregory were having another baby.


	2. Mantra

(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter Two: "Mantra"

_Six days later _

Olivia blinked and opened her eyes, yawning widely. "Well, good afternoon," she heard Gregory say. His voice was low and she turned to him, squinting. Golden sunlight filled the interior of the Jaguar, yet she was still appreciative for his blazer that was draped over her like a blanket. With a tired smile, she sat up and and stretched. "Are we almost home?" she asked through another yawn.

"Almost," he allowed, glancing over. "In a bit." He smiled and it was impossible to miss the excitement brimming in his eyes. She brushed her hair back and let his blazer fall away. She leaned over and reached out, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. She nuzzled his neck as she sighed, her lips brushing over his flesh. He chuckled, his right hand dropping from the steering wheel to squeeze her hand. "I just need to make a quick stop first."

"Oh, darling...no," she moaned, slowly shaking her head. She looked up and met his eyes, frowning. "I thought we were going straight home so we could tell the children about the baby."

He nodded and squeezed her hand again. "_Quick_ stop. I promise."

She sighed deeply and dropped her head back to his shoulder, letting the hum of the engine lull between them. She thought the heaven of the last six days would last. They had been the best ones of her life. Far _better_ than Spain could ever have been. Gregory doted on her, never straying from her side. But, it seemed the reality of the real world, and living this lie, was quickly invading. She squeezed his hand in return and slipped back into the passenger seat. "Are we stopping at your office?"

"No."

She glanced over, her eyebrow arched in surprise. "Then where?"

He grinned and looked over. "You'll see," he said mysteriously. She scoffed and playfully rolled her eyes, but she beamed. She couldn't help it. For the last six days, she'd been passionately convinced in the _truth_ of this lie. She could see it in her husband, in the adoring way he looked at her. She could feel it in herself, in the way she slept easy for the first time in weeks. This child would reseal them. "Do you remember when we explained to Caitlin she'd be getting a new brother or sister?" she heard him ask.

Olivia chuckled, her finger tracing a line on the back of his hand. "Oh, yes," she said softly, remembering the way the four-year-old's eyes lit up. "How she cried when she realized Sean wasn't there that very moment and wouldn't be for several more months."

"Cried for nearly two hours," he drolly added. She felt his hand slip away before he resettled on her stomach. Her hand covered his and they sat in silence for several moments, shielding their child from the world. "Think she'll take it better this time around?" he asked.

She smiled, nodding slowly. It wouldn't be hard to pull their daughter aside and beg her for a shocked reaction. What would be more challenging would be to separate herself from Gregory long enough to speak with Caitlin. She needed a distraction for him. But what?

"-gotten better."

She turned to him, shaking her head apologetically. "Sorry, darling. What was that?"

He rubbed her stomach and repeated, "At least her sense of time has gotten better."

"Yes. But, you know...I think they'll _both_ be stunned." Gregory nodded and she turned to him. The touch of grey at his temples gave her pause as she remembered the way he was years ago when she told him she was pregnant with Caitlin. The way he hugged her close before he dropped to his knees. The way her fingers combed through his thick dark hair as he knelt before her, gazing reverently at her stomach. The way he slowly looked up, his brown eyes shining. The subsequent years changed him physically, but he was still the same. "_You_ were stunned," she finally whispered. "All four times."

He shook his head, his eyes firmly planted on the road before them. "Terrified with Caitlin," he corrected quietly. "Excited with...with the second baby." They were quiet, letting a solemn moment pass. She rubbed his hand, listening as he finally continued, "Grateful with Sean."

"And now?" she asked after several beats.

He looked over, a hint of a smile on his lips. "All of the above, I think." She smiled, barely noticing as he pulled into a small lot and parked the car. "But, mostly blessed."

She tilted her head, surprised. Her husband was _not_ a religious man. "Oh?"

He nodded, his fingers spreading out on her abdomen. "Blessed with these children you've given me." He looked up slowly, their eyes meeting. He leaned in, watching her closely as he pressed his lips to hers. Her fingers fluttered against his face as he whispered, "Blessed with _you_."

She cupped his cheeks, blinking rapidly as he rested his forehead against hers. With a shuddering sigh, she looked up and forced herself to smile. This was right. This was for Gregory. This made him _happy_. This was for their family. He smiled back at her as she whispered his name. He brushed her hair behind her ears, still smiling patiently. "We're _both_ blessed," she finally replied.

He kissed her hand before he leaned away. "I'll be right back."

She rolled down the passenger window as he got out of the car. "Where are you going?" she called out the open window.

Gregory glanced over his shoulder. "_Darcy's_," he replied. "I called in an order for shortbread before we left Carmel." She nodded, her face lit up with a wide smile.

* * *

"Home," she sighed, taking Gregory's hand as she climbed out of the Jaguar. She leaned against him, clutching the pink bakery box to her chest, as her husband's arm went around her shoulders. "I hope Caity and Sean aren't out." They hadn't called ahead to let them know they were coming home. Part of her wondered if Gregory hoped to find something amiss.

"Wouldn't it be awful if they were?" he murmured as he slipped past her to unlock the front door. "We'd have the entire place to ourselves." He glanced over his shoulder, flashing a naughty grin. "Whatever would we _do_?"

She shook her head and followed him into the foyer. Despite his innuendo, she knew he couldn't wait to sit their children down and announce the pregnancy. Instead, she blinked, not _quite_ believing the site before her. Tiffany stood on the coffee table, using a wine bottle as a microphone as she sang to her captive one-man audience. The teenage girl's body swayed suggestively, her curves jutting beneath the navy silk. From the power with which her husband slammed the front door shut, she could tell he believed it all too _well_. The teenagers spun around, Tiffany's nervous laughter rising to a hiccup. She frowned, recognizing the diamonds and nightgown the young girl wore. Sean stood, his face pale as he croaked, "You're home?"

"Gregory," she began as he brushed past her.

"What the hell is going on here?" he bellowed and she flinched. Suddenly, and without warning, she found a distraction for her husband.

"We were- I mean, Tiff was-"

She followed her husband into the living room, feeling the furious anger radiating off him. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Caitlin and Cole appear in the patio doorway. As Sean continued to stutter, Gregory turned to Tiffany. It only took one close look at the girl's glassy eyes and flushed complexion to instantly realize she was drunk. "Get out of those clothes," he growled and she knew he recognized the nightgown. It wasn't that long ago he stripped her of it one lazy Sunday morning. "_Now_."

As the teenage girl scurried from the room, Sean said, "Dad, we- I didn't-" As he inched towards the coffee table, the movement only drew attention to the discarded wine bottle instead of hiding it. Like an extinguished flame, Olivia saw their happy homecoming wither in the wind. She sighed and dropped the bakery box on the arm chair.

Gregory reached for the bottle and she heard the way he inhaled. "You..._opened_ the '57 Latour?" she heard him ask, as if he couldn't believe what he held in his hands.

"_I_ didn't," he murmured and Olivia saw the way her husband's head went back. "But, by the time I saw what happened, it was too late."

Her husband swore beneath his breath, clutching the empty bottle by its neck. She touched his arm, hoping to stave off the inevitable explosion. She pressed against his back and stood on her toes to whisper in his ear, "Darling, _please_." He glanced over, their eyes meeting for a long moment. She knew he could read the silent plea in her look.

With a sigh, he set the empty bottle on the table with a loud _thunk_. "I'll bring in our luggage," he said, turning swiftly on his heel.

"Sean will help you," she replied, ignoring the pained expression their son threw her. She knocked her head back in the direction of the front door and folded her arms over her chest. As he passed her, she asked softly, "_My_ clothes, Sean? Really?" His only response was a deep sigh. She looked over her shoulder, watching him leave the house. She exhaled, her cheeks puffing out, as she turned towards the patio. Caitlin stepped in, frowning, as Cole hovered behind her. She felt his eyes on her as she neared them and she squared her shoulders.

This was for Gregory.

This was for their family.

"Mom," Caitlin began, a worried look clouding her expression, "is-"

"I'll calm your father down," she assured her, reaching out for for a hug. She met Cole's gaze briefly over Caitlin's shoulder, not surprised by his wry grin. She flinched and turned away, kissing her daughter's cheek. She couldn't worry about him now. There wasn't enough time. Gregory would be back any moment. As her lips brushed her daughter's ear, she whispered, "Act surprised, Caity. _Please_. Please act surprised."

"What?" she asked, pulling away. "Mom, what are you-"

But, she turned away, just in time to see Sean come back in with both suitcases. Gregory followed behind him and firmly closed the front door. She smiled at him and nodded, meeting him by the base of the stairs. He took her hand as he sighed. "Just think," she whispered to him, feeling the children staring, "it'll be _years_ before the baby is an unruly teenager."

He smirked and reached out, his arms enfolding her for a long moment. "Plenty of time to lock up the good liquor," he murmured as he kissed the side of her head. With a tired smile, he gently turned her so they faced their children and Cole together. "Well," he grandly began, settling his hands on her shoulders, "that wasn't _quite_ the homecoming I envisioned." Sean lowered his head. Caitlin looked confused. Cole wore his disinterest like a badge of honor. "Caitlin, Sean, your mother and I have something to tell you."

Olivia shivered, feeling an ominous chill breeze through the living room. She wondered if she was the only one who felt it. Sean looked up. Understanding began to flicker on Caitlin's face. Cole became slightly curious. With Gregory's chest against her back, she both heard _and_ felt him say, "Your mother is pregnant." She clasped her hands, watching their reactions. To her credit, Caitlin did an admirable job feigning a mixed expression of shock and incredulousness. Sean's jaw dropped as a blank look swept over his face. As for Cole, his astonishment quickly gave way to a stone-faced expression before he turned away. "We're having another baby," he continued, filling the heavy silence.

"A _baby_?" Caitlin exclaimed, grinning from ear-to-ear. Olivia felt her husband squeeze her shoulders and she leaned back against him. It was done. It was done and there was no going back. She smiled as Caitlin rushed over, her laughter ringing in her ears as her arms went around her. "Oh, Mom!"

She caught her daughter's hug, but it was Sean and Cole who left her wondering. Sean, who wiped his mouth and slowly sank down onto the sofa. Cole, who kept his back to all of them, his hands firmly in his pockets.

* * *

Olivia walked out of the bathroom, gently massaging her damp hair with a towel. The bedroom was quiet, save for the sound of Gregory's page turning. He was already in bed and engrossed in a thick deposition. She tossed the towel aside and combed through the loose tangles with her fingers. He still hadn't looked up, so she sat on the edge of the bed and replayed the evening. The way Sean's eyes kept darting away from hers every time she caught his gaze. The way he barely spoke to anyone at dinner. It was more than the tongue-lashing Gregory gave him before they sat down to eat. It was more than Tiffany's eviction. It was _her_. Something happened between herself and her son. She just hadn't figured out what it was yet.

She frowned and sat back against her pillows. A moment later, she felt Gregory's hand cover her own. "I'll be done in one page," he murmured with a detached undertone. She nodded, not that he noticed. With a sigh, she lifted his left arm and slipped into the hollow of his shoulder. She closed her heavy eyes and listened to the dull thump of her husband's heartbeat. Sean. He had that girl in her nightgown. She shuddered, wondering about the significance of _that_, when she heard the deposition land on the floor. "Cold?" he asked, rubbing her arm.

She glanced up as he drew the covers over them. "Oh. A little."

He hugged her closer as they lay together, the silence surrounding them. He breathed deep and easy, seemingly without a care in the world. She draped her arm across his chest and pressed herself as far into him as the bounds of their flesh and bones would allow. He chuckled softly and stroked her arm. "Sean will come around," he said and she quickly leaned up.

"Do you think so?" she asked. He nodded and twirled a lock of her hair around his index finger. She rested against his chest, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders. "He seems..." She frowned, struggling for the word that would describe their son's attitude.

"Liv," he began, "he's just embarrassed." She narrowed her eyes in thought, wondering if he was right. "We walked in and interrupted...God-only-knows-_what_ with him and the panhandler. Then, we told him you're pregnant. What teenage kid wants the visual of what his parents _did_ to be able to say that?"

She laughed in spite of herself as his hand settled in the small of her back. He only smiled in response, his eyes glazed over and hinting of sleep. "Oh, darling," she sighed, catching her breath as he rubbed her back. But, the memory of their son's downcast expression stayed with her as she lay back down next to him. Embarrassment might explain _part_ of it, but not all. Something else was bothering Sean...and she played a role in it.

"St. John cleared out quick enough," he pointed out after several moments. She slowly opened her eyes, gazing vacantly. "His leaving _almost_ makes up for losing the '57 Latour."

Cole vanished shortly after Gregory's big announcement. She felt his eyes burning into her before he left, but she refused to rise to the bait. But, like a thunder cloud lingering just offshore, she knew she would need to walk into the storm. She wasn't _quite_ finished with Cole St. John. Yet. But, for right now, it was her husband who demanded her attention.

She rested her hand over his heart, patting his chest lightly. "Poor Gregory," she sighed, awash with exaggerated sympathy. His hand dropped to her rear, the coral silk rippling beneath his palm. She squirmed and turned her eyes up to him. He smiled tiredly, though she could detect a subtle hint of amusement in it. "How can I help you through your grief?"

He reached up as his warm hand rested over hers. She smiled faintly, feeling the gentle squeeze he gave her.

This was for Gregory.

This was for their family.

As she nestled back against him, she wondered if she would be reminding herself of that for the rest of her life.


	3. Two Old Whores

(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter Three: "Two Old Whores"

Olivia swallowed back a yawn and tightened the belt of her robe as she walked into the dining room. Exhaustion seeped into her bone marrow, weighing down her limbs. She winced at the sunlight streaming in through the windows as Gregory looked up, folding his newspaper closed. "Why are you up?" he asked as she slid into the chair next to him.

She shrugged her shoulders and tiredly reached for a piece of cantaloupe on his plate. She never slept well when he wasn't nestled against her. He knew that. But, that wasn't what he meant. "I have a meeting with Christopher to discuss the advertising revenue," she replied, swallowing the sweet fruit. "It's down eighteen percent."

He nudged his plate closer to her and leaned in, watching closely. "Do you feel up to it?"

"_Eighteen_ percent, Gregory," she repeated, narrowing her eyes as she helped herself to his breakfast and reached for his toast. "Besides, I usually perk up around 10. I should be fine for the meeting."

A crooked smile came to his face as he watched her for a long moment. "Just...don't push yourself too hard."

She smiled to herself as he kissed the side of her head. "Oh, believe me, darling - this baby has _no_ plans to let me push myself." When she saw his amused smirk, she leaned back in her seat and sighed. "It's as if you two are already conspiring against me."

"I prefer the term 'allies' instead of 'conspirators'."

She swat at his arm and shook her head as he scooted his chair directly next to hers. His forehead rested against hers as he placed his hand on her stomach. "Was it really just two days ago we were in Carmel?" she asked softly. When things were calm. When she could revel in the joy of finally sharing the pregnancy with him. When she didn't have to go out of her way to avoid Cole. When she didn't need to wonder why her son was avoiding her. She sighed and leaned against him as he nodded. "Let's go back," she whispered, closing her eyes briefly. "Everything was perfect there."

"Home isn't perfect?" he wondered quietly and she looked up. He gazed back at her, a hint of confusion mixed in with the patience. She leaned in and kissed him softly, letting his question go unanswered. That was the easier alternative than admitting that home _wasn't_ perfect. Not at the moment. She felt his hands on her face, his thumbs rubbing against her cheekbones. "Dont worry, Liv," he murmured against her mouth. "I haven't forgotten about the Costa del Sol."

She nodded, watching him with wide eyes. "No, please forget it. I want our next trip to be to Italy. Oh darling, it's been _years_ since we've gone."

With a wry smile, he reached for her hands and gently squeezed them. "Mason will be thrilled to hear I'm taking more vacation time."

She sat up, ignoring his quip. "Oh God, is tonight the night we're having dinner with him and Josephine?" He nodded and she groaned as she rubbed her face.

"Liv," he said, gently pulling her hands away, "we can cancel."

She shook her head. "No. Mason needs you more than you need him." She knew her husband's ego. He smirked as he traced a circle on her knee cap. She reached out and smoothed his tie, the navy silk a sharp contrast to his pale blue shirt. "It doesn't hurt to remind him of that every now and again."

With a final squeeze of her knee, he stood. "Reservations are at seven," he said, buttoning his suit coat.

She stood and looped her arm through his. "Plenty of time to find to find something in my closet I can still squeeze into," she said, walking with him through the house to the front door.

He turned, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "You'll look ravishing," he said softly, nibbling at her lips. Her heart skipped as he continued, "You always do."

She nodded slightly, basking in the adoration shining in his eyes. And, she had the lie to thank for it. Standing against him, snug in his embrace, she whispered, "I suppose you'll want to tell Mason about the baby?" She knew what his reply would be. Nothing thrilled her husband more than spreading the news of Caitlin and Sean's impending arrivals. It wouldn't be any different this time.

"Would you mind?" he asked and she shook her head. She couldn't deny him that happiness - that pure delight - to utter four words they never thought he'd say again. _We're having another baby._

"Josephine will think it's terribly romantic," she replied, heavy footsteps on the stairs. She turned, still feeling the comforting weight of her husband's gaze on her as she locked eyes with Cole. She flinched and stepped back, pressing further into her husband's embrace. A dull hum filled her ears, drowning out the interrogating questions Gregory immediately began to throw at Cole. He wouldn't say anything to her in front of Gregory. Of that, she was _certain_. She knew Cole valued his life far too much. Instead, she withstood his critically inspective stare, feeling his eyes trail the length of her body until they rested on her stomach.

He didn't say anything, yet she still felt horribly exposed.

Suddenly, Olivia felt her husband's arms loosen. She spun around, watching him. He was leaving. The disgust on his face was evident. He was no doubt less than thrilled to find Cole leaving their daughter's bedroom. "Gregory," she began, a tremble in her whisper. He was leaving. He was leaving her with _Cole_. Her heart began to thud uncomfortably in her chest, each beat seeming to shout _LIE_.

He glanced up, briefcase in hand. "Seven o'clock," he reminded her, one quick kiss to sustain her. She blandly nodded and watched him slip out, the slam of the door signaling his displeasure. She jumped, the noise echoing through the house. She closed her eyes briefly, her hand resting on the barely there swelling of her stomach. For a ridiculous moment, she wondered how she would have been able to hide the tell-tale sign of her pregnancy if she _hadn't_ told Gregory.

Gregory.

This was for him.

This was for their family.

With a resigned sigh, she opened her eyes and slowly turned to Cole. His angry frown was an odd counterpoint to the sadness in his eyes. "We need to talk," he bluntly stated. "_Now_."

She shook her head, her gaze dancing to the stairs. "Caitlin is-" she began and he stepped toward her, furiously shaking his head.

"Gregory missed catching me the first time I snuck into your bedroom," he hissed, an angry flush rising in his throat. "I don't think we'll be so lucky if you _force_ me to come back a second time!"

She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. Despite his bravado, she knew he wouldn't follow through on his threat. The spectre of Gregory's reaction weighed too heavily on both of them. No, she needed to shield her husband from her sins at all cost. The knowledge of her affair with Cole _and_ the question over the baby's paternity would wound Gregory in a such a way that he would never recover. She would be to blame for destroying her husband.

"Not now," she urgently whispered, hearing the echo of her daughter's voice in the stairwell.

"Midnight. The grotto." Of course. The grotto. The scene that birthed her sin. She hesitated for a moment before she nodded. No satisfaction graced him as he moved away from her, Caitlin's voice rippling between them.

"Morning," she sang, leaning up to kiss Cole's cheek before she turned to her. Olivia blandly smiled, receiving her daughter's kiss even as her attention was still drawn to Cole. Luckily, Caitlin didn't seem to notice the swell of tension between them. "What are you two whispering about?" she playfully asked, grinning.

"Your father," she lied, forcing a concerned expression. "Daddy was _not_ happy to see Cole come down the stairs this morning."

Unsurprisingly, Caitlin's response was blasé. "I'm not a _child_," she replied as she turned away and reached for Cole's hand. She nodded, watching as the young couple exchanged a look before her daughter glanced back at her. "We've got to go. Cole's driving me to campus."

"Oh?" she asked, an uncomfortable sensation trickling down her spine. Was Caitlin taking summer classes? She suddenly couldn't remember. She touched the side of her head as Cole opened the front door. "Caity-"

"We should get going," Cole interrupted, watching her closely. "I've got an appointment later on that I _can't_ miss and I don't want to be sitting on the 405 for hours." For the briefest of moments, their eyes locked and she couldn't help the lick of irritation that was no doubt visible in her expression.

"Right." Caitlin nodded, leaning in for a hug. "Bye, Mom."

She gripped her daughter, holding her close. "Have you seen Sean?" she whispered in her ear. His bedroom was empty when she checked it before she came down. Caitlin hesitated for a long moment before she shook her head. She sighed as her eyes fell away. "Darling, if you see him, _please_ try and talk with him. Find out what-"

"I tried," she exclaimed, her blue eyes wide. "But, he just shut down and insisted he was fine."

"Do you believe him?" she asked, forgetting about Cole's oppressive presence.

"Of course not! But, he'll get over Tiffany leaving. He will. He just needs some time."

Olivia swallowed back the absurd laughter that bubbled up in her throat. Her daughter's innocent naiveté never ceased to amaze her. "Yes. Yes, of course. You're right," she lied.

* * *

"To Gregory," Mason grandly intoned, raising his flute of champagne for yet another toast, "for being ranked first tier by Chambers for the _fifth_ year in a row."

Olivia beamed, catching her husband's eye over the rim of his glass. She reached out, squeezing his thigh beneath the elegant draping of the tablecloth. Her husband's brilliance _still_ awed her after all these years. He put his flute down and covered her hand with his own. She smiled to herself, feeling his squeeze, as she heard Mason continue, "It's an immense distinction for you, as well as the firm."

"Could you imagine _not_ having him?" she asked, looking into the older man's smug expression. She'd known Mason and Josephine Vickers for as long as she'd been in Gregory's life. She knew everyone at the table was aware Mason's law firm experienced new levels of prestige and recognition ever since he hired her husband fresh out of law school.

He chuckled and nodded his head, conceding the point. "Olivia, I've made it my mission to ensure that will _never_ be a possibility." She smirked, reaching for her ginger ale as he continued, "No, nothing makes me more content than ensuring Gregory's continued presence at _Erickson Vickers_." He turned to Gregory. "Retirement from daily practice was an easy decision, knowing I had you watching over the L.A. office."

"It's true," Josephine said, smiling warmly.

Olivia watched Mason smile at his wife before he leaned in, fixing a firm gaze on her husband. "This was another easy decision for me. How does 'Gregory Richards, Senior Partner _and_ Global Chair of Criminal Defense' sound?"

Adulation flooded her body, crystallized in the wide smile on her face. She turned to her husband, watching his stone expression. But, she could feel the way he firmly squeezed her hand, the only external sign of his reaction. "Well," he said, his tone even, "that's quite an offer." Another beat of silence went by and she leaned in, expectantly waiting to hear what he said next. She had no doubt he would accept. "Thank you, Mason. I'll have a decision for you at the end of the week."

If she was stunned quiet, Mason was stunned into stuttering disbelief. "Gregory," he began as her husband sat calmly next to her, "frankly, I'm surprised we aren't already ordering another bottle of champagne. I expected you would immediately accept."

She felt Gregory raise their joined hands to the table as he gave hers a gentle squeeze. "Well, Mason," he replied and she sat up straighter, knowing what was coming next, "a week ago, that might have been the case." He glanced over at her and she nodded slightly, feeling Mason and Josephine's curious gazes turn to her. "Olivia and I are expecting another child and," he explained, squeezing her hand again as he looked back at Mason, "that changes everything."

"How wonderful!" Josephine gushed as Mason cleared his throat.

"Yes, yes. Of course," he said and Olivia could see the irritation in his clenched jaw. He turned to her, a gracious smile painted on his weathered expression. "Congratulations, my dear." Before she could open her mouth to reply, he turned back to her husband. "Now, Gregory, we'll naturally give you as much time as you want to transition to the chairmanship. Hell, take a year. Eighteen months even! But, I want to know that you'll accept."

Her husband nodded as Josephine interjected, "You boys can discuss all of that tomorrow at the office." Olivia bit back a smirk, watching the way she lay a firm hand over her husband's. "Now, this news _certainly_ merits more champagne. Doesn't it, Mason?"

He sat back and smiled graciously. "Yes, of course. This is certainly news to celebrate."

As he gestured for the waiter, she turned to her husband. With a question dancing in her eyes, she caught his gaze. Gregory glanced at her and winked, the only answer she needed.

Her husband was now the Global Chair of Criminal Defense.

But, his ego would make Mason wait.

* * *

Olivia's sandals dangled from her hand as she walked up the sand. With only the moonlight to guide her, she approached the narrow opening to the grotto. She wondered why she didn't feel afraid. Perhaps it was because slipping out of the house proved easier than she anticipated. Or perhaps it was because she knew she couldn't fail tonight. Far too much depended on this moment. Fear wasn't an option.

Her toes curled against the cold sand and she tried not to think of her warm bed. Of the warmth that came with sleeping in Gregory's embrace. Of the warmth that burned within her when Gregory's hands explored her burgeoning curves. She smiled to herself, remembering the purposeful way he stripped her of her cocktail dress when they got back from dinner. Her husband was never more turned on then the way he was after any kind of professional victory. Tonight had been no exception.

_"Having a good night, Olivia?"_

She jumped as Cole's disembodied question echoed in the cavernous silence of the grotto. She whirled around, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. He stepped out of the shadows, switching on a flashlight. She flinched, shielding her abused eyes, as he firmly stood the flashlight on the boulder between them. The light bounced and scattered against the rocks, bathing the space in a dim white light before fading away to the murky shadows. It just enough for them to see each other. "Not quite," she snapped, dropping her shoes into the sand. "I haven't been awake to see midnight in _weeks_."

Her words echoed around them as he sighed and stepped closer. "Since you got pregnant," he suggested. She felt her lips tighten to a disappearing line as she grimaced. She suspected he would cut to the chase. "Since _I_ got you pregnant."

She felt her hands mold into tight fists as he took another step closer to her, but said nothing. "You are _not_ the father of my child."

"Oh, really?" he snapped and suddenly he was a breath away. "I find that hard to believe!"

She chuckled cruelly and moved away. "I don't care what you believe!"

She gasped when she felt his hands on her shoulders as he spun her around to face him. "That is _my_ child!"

With an angry grunt, she shoved him away and felt her cheeks blazing. "It is _Gregory's_ child," she hissed.

He folded his arms against his chest and she could feel the weight of his patronizing stare. "Really?" he skeptically asked. He slowly shook his head and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. "We're really going to do this? You're really going to make me repeat everything you told me about your marriage?" She stiffened, her own words coming back to her as he began to recite,"_Oh Cole, my marriage is broken. We're married in name only. He sleeps with other women_." She narrowed her eyes, her body trembling as the volume of his voice rose with every statement until he reached his peak. "_My husband doesn't touch me!_"

Her head flew up as a familiar self-loathing churned within her. "ENOUGH!" she exclaimed. Her own voice swelled around them and she could hear the anger in it. Anger and panic. "My marriage was broken for many years, but it was _never_ dead!" She gasped, feeling the heady adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was the same fury she felt before Gregory threw her down to their leather sofa all those months ago. This argument just wouldn't end the same way as that one. "Get the picture or do I need to spell it out for you?"

He fell silent and she brushed her hair back, trembling within her black sweater. "I need-" he began and she shook her head.

"Let me tell you what you _need_," she interrupted. "You need to forget about our affair. _Forever_."

"Oh, that I plan to do!" he snapped and she paused, wondering if he was finally going to see reason. "But, you can _not_ expect me to just forget about that child!"

"I absolutely can!" she screamed, feeling a pinch in her throat. "Tell me. Do you harass _all_ of your old flings by insisting you've fathered their children?" He faltered for a moment and she lunged for the opportunity. "My God, you must have _dozens_ of little bastards running around Europe!"

He grabbed her arms and shook her, grunting her name. "_Don't_."

She laughed at his warning and pushed him away. "Don't what?" she asked, dripping with faux innocence. "Don't bring up the fact that your illustrious past makes it more than likely that you've already fathered _several_ children?" He moved past her and stalked away, but she spun around after him. "You're more like AJ than you realize: breaking hearts and abandoning all those poor little children." She placed her hand on her stomach and took a deep steadying breath. "But, my child is _not_ one of them. He-"

He turned around, his eyes falling to her stomach. "He?"

"-or she," she continued, fidgeting beneath his heavy stare, "already has a father. _Gregory_." He shook his head and her shoulders fell. "Cole," she whispered, unable to stop the blatant begging from creeping into her voice, "just...let it go. Even if - _if_ \- this was your child, what good would it do? It would _destroy_ Caitlin. And, for what? So you could tell yourself you weren't like AJ? That you wouldn't turn your back on your child?"

"I love Caitlin," he sighed in a broken whisper.

"Then, if you truly do, you wouldn't want to hurt her." She stepped closer, the distance diminishing until he was near enough to reach out and touch. But, her arms hung heavy at her sides. "If she ever found out about you and I, that's the _only_ thing that would happen." She watched as a myriad of emotions spun across the shadows of his face. "You're going to forget our affair. It _never_ happened." A tense silence blossomed between them as he looked away. She held her breath, waiting anxiously and afraid to move until he curtly nodded. She braced her hand against the boulder, fearing she would crumble beneath the relief raining down on her. Her head spun and she briefly closed her eyes when her vision blurred. "I don't," she murmured as she forced her eyes open, "intend to ever discuss this again."

As she turned away, she heard him clear his throat. "My ability to forget our affair and...that child isn't free." She stopped short, her fingers twitching against her thighs as she slowly glanced over her shoulder. "You need to keep Gregory off my back."

She nodded without even thinking. Between her pregnancy and his new role with the firm, Gregory wouldn't have the freedom to devote so much attention to their daughter's love life any longer. "Anything else?"

"Tomorrow," he began, "Caitlin will tell you and Gregory that she's going to spend the fall semester in France. With me." She turned all the way around, her eyebrow arched. Caitlin had never expressed any desire to study abroad. Not until Cole entered her life. "You'll need to _help_ Gregory see the value of her studying in Paris."

Help Gregory.

Force Gregory.

It all meant the _same_ thing.

She watched him for a long moment before she nodded slightly. She and Cole were more alike than she ever realized. They were just two old whores trading all kinds of favors for payment.

* * *

Olivia closed the gate softly, her bare feet lightly padding across the stone patio. It would be just _perfect_ that she forgot her sandals in the grotto. As she reached into her pocket for the house key, she looked up and gasped. The lights in the living room were on. "Damn," she sighed, her step faltering. She inhaled deeply and forced herself forward. As she neared the house, she saw Gregory through the windows. He was pacing the living room in his robe with the portable phone to his ear. Caitlin sat on the armchair in her pajamas, watching him with rapt attention.

As she turned the handle of the door, she saw him spin around. "Never mind, Bette," she heard him say as she walked into the house. "She's home." He ended the call and tossed the phone onto the sofa. "Where the _hell_ have you been?" he asked as he crushed her against him.

"Gregory-" she gasped, his arms like iron bands around her body.

"Do you know what I thought when I woke up and eventually realized you weren't _anywhere_ in the house?" he bellowed. "Christ, I woke the children up out of a sound sleep, hoping they would know where you went!"

She pressed her hands to his chest and leaned back, watching him closely. His eyes were manic and he was breathing heavily. He wasn't angry so much as he was terrified. She had scared him."I'm sorry," she began, lowering her eyes. "I didn't think you would wake up."

He hugged her back to him, the urgency from earlier gone as his panic began to subside. She leaned her head against his chest, feeling the way his heart still pounded. From behind them, she heard Caitlin murmur, "Daddy, I'm-"

He nodded, though he didn't turn around to look at her. "Go back to bed, Caitlin," he sighed.

Olivia looked over his shoulder, watching their daughter all but run from the room. "I'll tell Sean that you're back," she said as she disappeared upstairs.

Her husband sighed deeply, his hand running over her hair. "What the hell were you thinking leaving the house in the middle of the night?" he asked, his voice flat.

She peeked up at him and shrugged. "I couldn't sleep," she lied. "I just went for a walk on the beach. I thought the fresh air might help settle my mind."

"A walk on the beach," he blandly repeated, shaking his head. He loosened his arms long enough to cup her face and press a kiss to her forehead.

A tidal wave swept over her, drowning her in the emotion of her conversation with Cole. She was lying through her teeth to her husband, but her sobbing was the truth. She lowered her face, tears streaming down. "Oh, darling, I'm sorry!" she cried, feeling him brush away her tears. It was true. She was sorry for everything. She came _thisclose_ to destroying her husband and her family. She fell against him, crying into his chest as she hugged him tight. "I'm so sorry!"

"Liv," he sighed, gently nudging her face up, "it's alright." She shook her head even as he nodded and insisted, "It is."

"I just...," she explained, choking on a sob, "just had so many things on my mind that-"

He crouched down so he was at her eye level. "What things?" he asked with a frown.

She sniffled and shook her head, feeling his eyes poring into hers. "It doesn't matter," she bashfully whispered as his hands slipped to her shoulders.

"Is this because of the chairmanship?" he asked, searching her face. She shook her head even as he continued, "Because I'll have to travel to all the offices over the next year?"

She blinked back tears and cupped his face. "I'm not worried about that," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

He stood tall and sighed, gazing up at the ceiling for a brief moment. "I'll be here when the baby's born in October," he finally said when he looked back at her. "I wouldn't miss that."

He thought this disappearing act was _his_ fault. That he somehow caused it. That he was the one to blame instead of being the blameless victim of her beautiful lies. She shook her head and stood on her toes, kissing him deeply. Her arms went around his neck as he responded, wrapping his arms around her. "I know," she murmured against his lips.

"Liv-"

"I _believe_ you," she whispered, her fingers dancing against the back of his neck. "And after," she continued, "the baby and I will go with you on those trips." A smile came to his face as he quietly watched her. She smiled back at him, feeling reborn in the face of his pleased expression. "But, darling, promise me _one_ thing."

He didn't hesitate. "Anything."

"Don't visit the office in Rome until the baby and I can come with you."

His laugh was music to her ears. This was for him. This was for their family. She let him lead her upstairs, profoundly grateful for him. For his love. For the family he gave her.

For the first time in months, she felt as if their family had a chance. A real chance.


	4. Everything

(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter Four: "Everything"

Olivia jerked, her heart racing as the unsettling feeling of falling consumed her. With a deep sigh, she sat up straighter and rubbed her face awake. She thought sitting up in the armchair would help. It had not. Her exhausted body was rebelling against her, determined to find sleep any way it could. She pressed her fingers to her temples, massaging her throbbing head. She wasn't in control of her body any longer, she realized. Perhaps it should be added to the long list of things she had no control over. After all, everything was just a heartbeat away from imploding.

She sighed. Would anything _ever_ be easy?

Slipping out of bed and leaving her sleeping husband behind for the second time in less than six hours proved the only easy thing within her grasp at the moment. She sighed tiredly, remembering the way she slid one of her pillows beneath his arm, as if the feathers and silk might somehow replace the feeling of her body. Still, he barely stirred and she was able to creep out of their room, her bare feet padding against the wood floor. Her only consolation was the hope that she would be back in their bed before he realized she was gone. She didn't need him coming downstairs just yet. Hopefully, not at all.

Behind her, she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. She narrowed her eyes and listened intently. They weren't the heavy and determined steps of her husband. They weren't the carefree and breezy steps of her daughter. "Going somewhere?" she asked, her voice flat. She heard Sean jump and ignored the expletive mixed in with his gasp.

"Mom. What are you doing up?"

She glanced over her shoulder, barely able to make out her son's form in the pre-dawn shadows. But, she could feel the apprehension radiating off him. "Well. It seems the only way I can get hold of my son is to be up before the sun and catch him as he sneaks out."

"I wasn't sneaking out," he retorted. It was a defiant response, the type he usually reserved for conversations - _arguments_ \- with Gregory. But, until now, they'd never been directed at her.

"Really? What do you call this then?"

"Getting an early start to my day." She sighed and turned away from him. When he was an unruly and wild child, the most effective way to punish his bad behavior was to ignore him. He could never stand the sudden and cold way she would freeze him out for more than a few moments. Then, he would become her sweet boy again and throw his little arms around her legs as he frantically called out to her. Now, after several moments of torturous silence, she heard him shuffle into the living room and drop his backpack on the floor. "What do you _want_?" he snapped and she couldn't help but flinch at the coldness in his question.

"Your sister seems to think your recent behavior is a result of your father throwing Tiffany out of our home." She paused, letting her quiet statement sink between them. "I disagree," she finally continued, her voice dropping another pitch. Out the corner of her eye, she watched him fidget and look away. "I saw your face when your father announced I was pregnant." There was no need to dance around the issue. She was too tired to do anything other than get to the point. With a painstaking slowness, she turned and looked up at her son. He was still standing next to the chair, but his eyes were glued firmly to the floor. His shoulders were slumped, as if he was broken beneath the weight of whatever was bothering him. "Sean-"

"I heard about your disappearing act last night," he interrupted, though he still wouldn't look at her. She sat up and pushed herself to the edge of the cushion, intending to stand. She was thrown by this sudden detour. But, what her son said next turned her to stone as they careened off a cliff. "Was it because Dad figured out that kid isn't his?"

Her throat closed as paralysis seeped through her veins. She couldn't blink. She couldn't think. His question echoed in the silence, rippling like a pebble's break on the water. She felt the weight of his crushing gaze on her and the fact that he was finally looking at her didn't register. How? She inhaled sharply, oxygen blissfully flowing into her strained lungs. How did he know? Howhowhowhowhow? She slumped back into the chair, suddenly dizzy. "Wh-wh-" she stuttered as her vision blurred and faded to black.

HOW?

* * *

_Laughing with Gregory over a candlelit dinner, a plate of cheese and pears drizzled with honey between them._

_His arms around her as they danced in the courtyard of the palazzo. _

_The sound of her heels on the marble staircase as he led her to their suite. _

_Shivering as he slowly undressed her, her silk gown falling away from her body._

_Their chests pressed together as they fell asleep, their limbs entwined. _

* * *

When her eyes fluttered open, she wasn't in Florence. She felt something hard beneath her back. She blinked, quickly realizing she was laying on the living room floor. "Mom?" she heard, Sean's question sounding far away and garbled. She weakly nodded, feeling his hand on her shoulder. "Don't move," he said and he suddenly sounded clear. Something cold pressed against the space on her neck below her ear and she gasped. "Sorry."

She closed her eyes, unable to shake the dizzy and disorienting feeling churning within her. "Why am I on the floor?" she murmured.

She heard the ice cubes knocking together as her son adjusted the compress against her. "You...you fainted," he said softly, his voice very close to her ear. "I caught you as you were sliding off the chair. By the time I lowered you to the floor, you were already coming around."

She nodded, a slight movement she could barely manage. "Thank you, darling."

He scoffed and she forced herself to squint up at him. "For what? For catching you? For grabbing a towel and ice from the bar?"

With a whimper, she raised her arm and groped for his hand. As her fingers curled around his wrist, she forced herself to look up. His eyes met hers as she whispered, "Yes."

He shook his head and sighed deeply. "Jesus, Mom."

She squeezed his wrist, getting his attention. "What you said," she began, her voice cracking, "darling, I-"

"I already know the story of you...and Del," he interrupted. He pushed her hand away from his wrist and forced it to the ice pack, leaving her to hold it. She tried to shake her head, but that only made her dizzy again. "How did Dad figure it out?"

She finally shook her head, fighting the nausea and confusion. "Sean, I- I don't know-" she stuttered, trying to focus.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "It was only a matter of time before he realized it."

"Sean, _no_." She rolled onto her side and locked her arms as she pushed herself up. Choking back bile, she leaned against the arm chair, tucking her legs beneath herself. "What are you saying?" she gasped.

Her son leaned forward, his face twisted. "How did you think you were going to explain it to Dad when that kid is born with a full head of _red_ Douglas hair?" She dropped the compress, ignoring the way the ice cubes cracked and scattered against the tile floor. Her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped loudly, the sound echoing in the early morning quiet. "Or, doesn't that matter anymore if he finally did the math like I did?"

Her thoughts stopped screaming long enough for her to croak, "You think this is Del's baby?" He nodded and she couldn't help the laughter that danced out of her mouth. Relief permeated every ounce of her body, an instant antidote to the rising hysteria. Del. _Del_. He thought...DEL... She saw the confusion ripple across his face and she shook her head, wiping away the joyous tears streaming from her eyes. "Oh, Sean," she gasped, pressing her hands to her heart.

"How the hell can you _laugh_ about this?"

"Oh, darling," she chuckled, pressing her hands to her aching cheeks. "Why on earth would you think _that_?"

He balked and he leaned in, allowing her to see the confusion in his expression. "You and Dad have been a disaster for as long as I can remember," he said softly and her amusement melted away. "Suddenly, everything's great between you both? Then, you come back from Carmel and you're having a baby?" He shook his head as he sighed deeply. "You two haven't been- I mean," he coughed, lowering his eyes, "there's _no_ way...the math..."

She reached out, cupping his face as she forced her embarrassed son to look back up at her. She knew she shouldn't feel so overjoyed in the face of his obvious discomfort, but she was. She couldn't help it. In the span of several moments, she went from sickening terror to joyous relief. She was still safe. Beneath her palm, her son's cheek flamed with mortification as she began, "Your father and I..." He shook his head as she patted his cheek and simply said, "Del is _not_ this child's father."

Doubt flickered in his eyes and she heard the skepticism in his voice as he began, "You and Dad said the baby would be born at the end of October. Well, nine months before that, you two were barely speaking." His next thought went unsaid, but she could see it on his face. _Let alone doing anything that would create a child._

She cleared her throat and meekly nodded. Despite the early morning shadows, she could see the way her son's blush deepened. She and Gregory destroyed the safe and loving home their eldest children grew up in. They lived in such a way that it was completely plausible for their son to wonder about this child's paternity. Sean would never know just how close he came to discovering her lie, even though he wasn't completely right. "All you need to know about your father and I," she softly explained, "is that this child was conceived _after_ Del died." A warm feeling glowed within her, calming her frayed nerves.

It was what it felt like to tell the truth.

* * *

Olivia slowly closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. She quietly exhaled, her cheeks puffing out. She wished her heart would stop pounding as she pressed her hands to her chest. After all, Sean was fine and went back to bed, consoled with the reassurance of his younger sibling's paternity. She pushed away from the door and neared the bed. She could barely stand any longer, let alone keep her eyes open. Gregory hadn't moved and his arms were still firmly around the pillow hugged to his chest. She dropped her robe on the foot of the bed before she slid beneath the sheets. Slowly, she lifted his arm and pushed the pillow free as she slipped into its place. His face didn't move as she draped his arm over her and inched closer. She sighed and closed her eyes, surrendering to the silence and her husband's embrace.

"So, where did you sneak off to this time?" Her eyes flew open and she felt Gregory's chest vibrate as he suggested, "Another stroll on the beach, perhaps?"

She forced herself to giggle and turned to him. He was sleepily looking over at her and he hugged her closer as she replied, "Of course not, darling." She snuggled against him, resting her head against his shoulder and stretching her arm across his chest. As his arms enveloped her, she continued, "But, I needed to speak with Sean. I couldn't keep waiting for him to come around."

"And?" he sighed, sleep clinging to his question.

"_And_," she began, feeling his fingers combing through her hair, "you were...right." His hand stilled and she smirked. There were few things her husband enjoyed more than being told he was right and someone else was wrong. "Sean was just embarrassed because the pregnancy is an obvious reminder that his parents still have sex," she lied.

He chuckled and she felt his hand resume its fascination with her hair. "Say that again."

She sighed, closing her eyes as she repeated in a whisper, "You were right."

* * *

"Darling, can you believe how clear this picture is?" Olivia wondered, marveling at the clarity of the ultrasound scan she was holding. She felt his hand on her thigh, rubbing gently. "Don't you remember how blurry they were with Caity and Sean?"

She looked over, seeing him nod. "For most of Caitlin's, I had to trust the doctor when he said the blob on the screen was our child. I never saw anything that remotely looked like a baby until the last month or so."

She laughed, remembering the way he suspiciously regarded the ultrasound images more than twenty years ago. "I think I did too," she admitted. "But this," she sighed, turning back to the photo in her hand, "is _so_ different." She reached out, her fingernail tracing the string of pearls that was the baby's spine. _Their_ baby's spine. She sighed, feeling happiness oozing from her husband. She squeezed his hand as he pulled the car into the driveway. "You know, the doctor said we might be able to know the sex at the next appointment."

He parked the car and turned to her. "Do you want to know?" he asked and she could see the flash of hope in his eyes.

She waited a brief moment before she nodded. She saw him beam and she would've done anything to keep him happy. She _was_ doing everything to keep him happy. This was for him. This was for their family. He reached out and brought her hand to his lips. "Just in time for your birthday," she pointed out.

"You know, I did the math." She balked, Sean's words from earlier echoing between them. "I'm going to be 65 when this baby graduates from high school."

A nervous chuckle bubbled out of her throat as his thumb rubbed across her knuckles. "65," she sighed, swallowing back her anxiety. She was fine. Sean was fine. Everything was fine. She squeezed his hand and teased, "But, I'll always be younger than you, _especially_ when you're 65."

* * *

"Starving over here," Sean sighed, sitting sidewise in the armchair as his legs dangled over the arm.

Caitlin chewed on her thumb and anxiously looked up. "Relax, Sean."

Olivia sighed and patted her hand. "Daddy will be out as soon as he's done with his call," she reminded her as she turned back to the licensing contract in her lap. Out the corner of her eye, she watched her daughter nod and lean over knees. The young girl's face was twisted with anxiety and she could almost imagine the nerves churning in her stomach. She too had been nervous before she sat her parents down and announced she was moving to America. However, her own circumstances had been highly different than her daughter's. She had spent the entire year after graduating from school working a series of jobs and saving every bit of money she could. Her parents, wonderful as they were, were not wealthy. There was no way she could expect them to finance her trans-Atlantic adventure.

She sighed, leaning her head into the cushions. Through their hard work, she and Gregory ensured their children would never know that worry. When they were growing up, Caitlin and Sean had everything money could buy, except for parents with a healthy and loving marriage. She rubbed her stomach, remembering the way the baby's rapid heartbeat filled the exam room earlier that day. This baby would have it all and, by extension, Caitlin and Sean would too. This family would experience a renaissance.

She felt Caitlin lean against her before she asked, "Can you feel it kick?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. Soon though."

"I hope I get to feel it before-"

She looked over as her daughter's hand covered her own. She was frowning and staring down at her stomach. Suddenly, it all made sense. Caitlin would miss the latter half of her pregnancy. She wouldn't even be there when the baby was born. She squeezed her hand as she innocently asked, "Before what, darling?"

Caitlin sat up and shook her head, forcing a watery smile. "Nothing," she whispered, squeezing back as Gregory strode into the living room. She jumped up, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder. "That was a long call, Daddy!"

Olivia heard him sigh as he sank into the sofa next to her. Despite telling Mason he wouldn't officially accept the chairmanship until the end of the week, a series of teleconference meetings suddenly appeared on his calendar. "I had to finalize next week's trip to Tokyo," he sighed as he rested his feet on the coffee table.

She smiled, pushing her contract aside as he exhaled. Caitlin stood before them, nervously twisting her hands. She cleared her throat and touched her husband's hand. "Darling, Caity had something she wanted to tell us."

He looked up. "Finally," Sean muttered as he sat up and turned to his sister. "Then we can eat."

She smiled encouragingly and nodded up at her daughter. "Go on, darling."

Caitlin nodded back, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Well," she began, her voice wavering, "before dinner, I wanted to tell you both and Sean about something that's happened." She felt her husband stiffen and sit up, his feet falling away from the coffee table. "It's about my future and, while this might be shocking, I really think that-"

"Caitlin, what are you saying?" he interrupted, his voice flat. "Does this have something to do with St. John?"

She placed a restraining hand on his thigh as their daughter shook her head. "No. I mean, _yes_, but not in the way you might be thinking."

Sean chuckled and muttered, "He's afraid you're going to say you're pregnant."

Olivia felt her husband flinch and she gently squeezed his thigh. "Sean, _enough_," she ordered, eyeing her amused son. "Let Caitlin finish." She flashed her husband a reassuring smile, not oblivious to the volcanic eruption brewing on his face. She had a feeling her reassurance didn't help.

"Thank you, Mom," she said, ignoring the way her younger brother chortled. She looked at her father and smiled bashfully. "I'm not pregnant, Daddy. Cole and I use protection."

"Ok. Can we _not_?" Sean exclaimed as Gregory swore and abruptly stood. She watched his face contort as he stalked over to the bar. She listened to the sound of ice being flung into the glass, biting back a smirk. Somehow, the admission that their daughter was no longer a virgin was worse for him than the fact that she wasn't pregnant. He returned to the sofa with a glass and the entire decanter of scotch, deep frown lines darkening his face.

"Caity, if you could..." she suggested as her husband poured a generous splash of liquor into his crystal glass.

Their daughter energetically nodded and said, "This is about school." She beamed, making eye contact with both of them as she continued, "I've decided to study abroad next semester."

Olivia watched the relief wash over her husband, his hand tight around his glass. Whatever else he imagined their daughter might say, it certainly wasn't this. "Where are you going?" she heard Sean ask.

There was a brief pause before she replied, "Paris." Her husband promptly drained his glass. "I'm going to Paris."

"Was this St. John's idea?" Gregory quietly asked, calmly pouring more scotch. She watched him, fascinated by the blank expression that contradicted the tightness she heard in his question. Her hand found his, listening to the sudden silence as the ice clinked against the crystal.

"Well," their daughter began, "not exactly. I was talking about-"

She tuned her daughter out, feeling the way her husband's fingers pushed through her slightly swollen ones. Luckily, Gregory's reaction took the attention off her own. She doubted if any of them noticed she wasn't as surprised as her husband or son.

"I suppose St. John will be there with you?"

"Yes. His grandmother has-"

She sighed, remembering Cole's haughty order from last night. _You'll need to help Gregory see the value of her studying in Paris_. Hopefully, this would be the last thing she would ever need to do for Cole before he vanished back to Europe. She seized a brief lull in her daughter's impassioned defense of her plan to clear her throat before she said, "Well, darling, I think it's a _wonderful_ idea." Caitlin beamed and stood a bit taller. Gregory turned to her, glaring. Sean watched it all as if it were a spirited tennis match. "After all," she continued, watching her husband closely, "you're older than I was when I moved here on my own."

Caitlin laughed and sat on the coffee table, her knees perched neatly between her and Gregory. "Mom, I'm not _moving_ to Paris." She smiled, listening as her daughter unknowingly took the bait. This was the simple kind of reassurance Gregory would need to hear. "It's just for the fall semester. I'll be home for Christmas."

"_You can plan on me_," Sean sang as he stood, evoking the sound of Bing Crosby. "_Please have snow_-"

Gregory sighed as their daughter tossed a pillow at their son, ending the impromptu serenade. She leaned against him, patting his chest with her free hand. "Cheer up, darling," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. He scoffed into his glass, swallowing the rest of the scotch in one gulp. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her. After all, we should be grateful she's not dropping out of college and running off with Cole." He shook his head and she looked up, ensuring their children were still distracted by a pamphlet for the study abroad program. "Besides," she continued, dropping her voice as she rested her hand over his heart, "the best thing we can hope for is that Caity will meet a charming young French boy in one of her classes and she'll forget all about Cole."

That at least made her husband chuckle beneath his breath as he wrapped his arm around her. "Could we be that lucky?" he murmured into her hair. She smiled, his hand cupping her shoulder as he sighed again. Gregory could sigh as much and as often as he wanted about their daughter's upcoming trip. But, at least he wasn't blatantly opposing the idea. "Of course, this means I'm going to _have_ to squeeze in a trip to the Paris office while she's over there."

She smirked, glad he came to that idea on his own. It was one less thing for her to use to convince him. "Of course," she simply replied as he kissed her head.

* * *

Olivia shivered and drew the red shawl tighter around her shoulders. A strong breeze blew off the Pacific, bringing an unseasonable coolness to southern California. Gregory enjoyed this weather because it meant he could switch off the air conditioning and leave every window open. She rested her elbows on her knees as she sat on the steps off the patio. The sun was slowly sinking behind the horizon, painting a mural of orange, yellow, and pink in the sky. She sighed. She wasn't a religious person, something that she knew disappointed her devout mother until the day she died. But now, watching the sunset and reflecting over the last several days, she felt something akin to the hand of God touch her.

She was free.

She had gotten away with it.

She had gotten away with _everything_.

Cole was removed from her unborn child's life and, in just a few weeks, he would be out of hers as well. Caitlin was happy and eagerly anticipating her future. Sean was calmed and reassured of their family's unity. Gregory had everything he ever wanted, personally and professionally.

And herself?

Her sigh gave way to a sob as her throat tightened. She kept them all together, just as she vowed to do. She lowered her face into her hands, crying into her palms. She did what she needed to do. They would never know just how close she came to destroying everything. How close she came to ruining the one thing that gave her the greatest joy in life: her family.

"What's wrong?" She sat up, quickly wiping her eyes as she felt Gregory sit on the step above her. She sniffled as his legs stretched out on either side of her and his arms wrapped around her from behind. Her chin trembled and she rested her head against his left arm as he pointed out, "I haven't seen you cry this much since our honeymoon."

She smiled wistfully as he gently pulled her back against his chest. Nothing ever failed to soothe her the way Gregory could when he used his entire body to cocoon her. His cheek pressed against hers and she reached up, cupping his face with her trembling hand. "When I had horrible jet lag and couldn't sleep for the first three nights."

She felt his chest rumble as he continued, "On the second night, I found you sitting on the floor in front of the television at four in the morning, sobbing uncontrollably."

They sat on the floor as they were sitting now, she remembered. He didn't say anything then, he just wrapped his arms around her trembling body as she cried. "Oh, that ending," she murmured, sniffling as she closed her eyes. "Sophia Loren standing at the train station, heartbroken as she watched the man she loved leave her for the second time." She snuggled back against him, instantly warmed within his embrace.

"But, there's no sad Italian movie now." She nodded and slowly opened her eyes. "Hmm?"

"I'm just so," she explained, her lips parting as the glorious truth rose in her throat, "_happy_."

There was a long moment of quiet as the evening breeze swirled around them. She heard him sigh and she couldn't help but smile. She knew he was often confused by the extremes of her emotions. A moment later, he solemnly said, "If this is happy, Liv, then I _never_ want to see sad."

Relief tingled in her body as she turned her face into his arm. This was all for him. More tears stung her eyes and she felt his lips on her neck, kissing tenderly. She sighed his name as he nuzzled her throat and she leaned back, looking up at him. "I'm happy," she gasped, her palm against his cheek, "because we have everything." He nodded, his embrace tightening as he kissed her temple. "_Everything_."

* * *

_A/N: Sean sang a bit of "I'll Be Home for Christmas" (written by Kim Gannon, Walter Kent, and Buck Ram)._


	5. A Tale of Two Birthdays

(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter Five: "A Tale of Two Birthdays"

_July 24, 1997_

"What?" Olivia sat up quickly, her hands falling to her stomach. "That little viper wants _what_?"

Charles Lakin frowned an apology, his lips parted to respond, when Gregory murmured, "Olivia, her request _isn't_ entirely unreasonable."

She turned to him, seething. Whose side was he on anyway? "Are you mad?" she gasped, watching as he continued to read through the proposed offer. "I'm not giving her any of the jewels!" She shook her head, her arms petulantly folded. "_Any_ of them!" She felt him stand, his hand squeezing her shoulder as he promised a response to Charles within twenty-four hours. With a deep exhale, she narrowed her eyes and watched her husband show Annie's lawyer to the door. She winced and sucked in her breath. The baby was kicking with a vengeance and taking it out on her internal organs. She shifted to the edge of the cushion, hoping the change of position would help.

Gregory sat across from her on the coffee table, watching intently. "You've upset her."

She rolled her eyes as she felt his fingers against her knee. "_I've_ upset her? Annie has-"

"_Said_ she'll sue us if we don't make a deal with her," he said, his voice firm to catch her attention. It worked. She turned her gaze to the floor as he leaned in. "And, even though we'll win, a lawsuit will take years," he softly continued, "and God knows how much of our money." She sighed, feeling something shift between them as he went quiet. Slowly, she looked up, their eyes meeting. It was gone instantly, but not before she recognized the sentiment clouding his eyes. It was pain. "I don't want Annie Douglas in our lives for years," he concluded in a whisper.

It wasn't _just_ Annie. He didn't want the memory of Del in their lives. The memory of how she came to own the Deschanel jewels. The memory of her affair. The memory of their broken marriage. _I won't – I can't – keep talking about this. Not this weekend. Not ever. _She nodded and reached out, cupping his face. She smiled when he covered her hands with his own. This was all for him. "Fine," she sighed reluctantly and he leaned in, kissing her forehead. "We'll make the deal."

He stood and squeezed her hands as he helped her to stand. Her firm belly pressed between them as he wrapped his arms around her. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked.

She watched him suspiciously, hearing the teasing in his question. His hands held her close, rubbing into her back, as she shrugged. "I don't know. A brilliant lawyer once told me settling was for losers," she mused innocently.

He shook his head and glanced away, chuckling beneath his breath. His hands followed the curve of her spine to her hips and she closed her eyes. His breath was warm against her ear as he leaned in. "We have everything, remember?" he rasped. "We can afford to settle every once in awhile."

She nodded and turned her face into his neck. Their daughter kicked between them as he hugged her close, running his hand over her head. "Everything," she agreed, his chest falling as he exhaled. They stood quietly, wrapped in the silence and the aromas drifting from the kitchen. Rose was certainly outdoing herself with this dinner. She inhaled deeply and lifted her head. "Don't call Charles back until tomorrow."

He nodded. "We'll let Annie sweat it out until then."

An amused smile lit up her face as she shook her head. "I don't want you working tonight," she explained, her fingers dancing against the nape of his neck. "Not on your birthday."

He rolled his eyes. "I came home early," he pointed out, making a laugh rise in her throat. "Just in time for Charles to blindside us with Annie's demands."

"But, nothing else," she interrupted. She pressed her hands to his chest as her eyes pored into his. "Not tonight. _Promise_ me."

He leaned in, kissing her. "I promise," he sighed against her lips. She kissed him back, feeling the way his fingers grazed her earlobes. The baby kicked again and she hissed, turning her face away. He frowned and looked down, rubbing her stomach. "That sounded like it hurt."

She shook her head and looked up at the ceiling as she exhaled deeply. "Your daughter demands attention," she replied, his hands resting on the crest of her stomach.

He chuckled as she looked back at him. "She's my daughter when she's in trouble?"

"When she kicks me like _that_, yes." He smirked and she reached for his hand. "Before the children come down, I want to tell you something." His face turned, a question blooming, and she smiled quickly. "It's a present. Of sorts."

His brow remained furrowed as he led her back to the sofa. "Of sorts," he repeated, as if he needed to ponder the mystery of her words.

As he settled a pillow behind her back, she looked up at him. Their eyes met and he smiled before he sat next to her, pulling her legs into his lap. She watched him for a long moment. His dark eyes gazed back at her, echoing the way they once lured her in all those years ago. "I've been thinking about something since last week. Since the doctor told us the baby is a girl." He beamed, the pride at the news of another daughter only increasing in the subsequent days. He rested his arms on her shins as she continued, "It's something I want very much."

"Liv, what is it?" he asked.

She reached out, her fingers threading through his. "Her name," she said softly, watching him closely. "I want to call her...Evelyn." He sat still, but she heard the way he inhaled. She leaned up, squeezing his hand. She convinced herself this was natural. That she would suggest his mother's name even _if_ the baby's paternity wasn't a lingering question. Bette was doubtful, but she wasn't Gregory's wife. She was...and she knew what this would mean to him. At least that's what she told herself. "Darling?"

He gently lowered her legs to the floor before he reached for her. He didn't speak, but then again, she didn't need him to say anything. She heard his reply in the way his arms drew her close. In the way his suddenly shallow breathing grazed her ear. In the way his choking whisper asked, "Liv, are you sure?"

She nodded, gently turning his face up to hers. "This is our last baby," she whispered, his eyes shining. "Our last _chance_ to do things right. Nothing would make me happier than naming her after your mother." He rested his forehead against hers as she continued, "It's the only name I hear in my mind when I dream about our daughter: Evelyn Rose."

"Evelyn," he sighed, nuzzling against her. "Evelyn _Frances_." She sat back, hearing her own second name. "Evelyn Frances Richards."

"Darling-"

"After the _both_ of you." Their eyes met as he looked up. A kaleidoscope of emotions swirled through through the expression on his face. He cleared his throat, his whisper strained as he added, "Nothing would make _me_ happier." She nodded slowly, watching the way he exhaled. This was all for him. This made him happy. She wrapped her arms around his neck, his bashful smile a balm to her fractured soul. When he looked at her like this, it was enough to believe that she was worthy. That her beautiful lies could sustain them. That she wouldn't break his heart. That she wouldn't destroy their family.

"Happy birthday, darling," she sighed as feet thundered down the stairs. She looked up, smiling over his shoulder as Caitlin and Sean walked over to them. She cupped his face briefly as he glanced down, still too proud to let anyone but her see his exposed heart. She followed him with her eyes as he stood, just in time to catch Caitlin's hug. With less than two weeks until she left for Paris, their daughter was vacillating between uncontrollable excitement and nostalgic sentiment. Sean was himself again and tentatively extending an olive branch to his father.

This was for their family.

Gregory. Caitlin. Sean.

And, Evelyn.

* * *

_July 24, 2015_

Olivia dabbed the perfume behind her ears and pressed the stopper back into the bottle. She turned her eyes up, watching Gregory through the mirror's reflection. His hands worked quickly, twisting the silk tie into a knot as he carried on a spirited conversation with a colleague. He glanced down, winking at her in the reflection, before he turned away and reached for his suit coat. She barely flinched as his voice rose, his hand pressed to the Bluetooth in his left ear. With a sigh, she leaned her elbows on the surface of the vanity. She wasn't so sure that all this technology made things easier. If anything, it only made their work _more_ present in their lives.

"Mom." She looked up as Evy slipped into their bedroom. She padded over barefoot, two pairs of shoes dangling from her hands. "Help. I can't decide."

She smiled and turned around, her eyes moving between the options. "The ones on the left, I think."

"Oh, good." Evy grinned and sat next to her on the bench. "I was hoping you'd choose them." Her velvet voice was low as she slipped her feet into the shoes. "God, how much longer is he going to be on for? He's going to be late to his own party."

"Not long, I hope," she replied as she ran her hand over her daughter's hair. The warm blonde locks cascaded over her shoulders, loosely curled for the occasion. "You look lovely, darling."

Evy peeked up, her brown eyes sparkling as she grinned. "Thanks. So do you." They turned to the mirror, watching their reflections. Olivia reached for her hand, their fingers locking together. The teenager giggled and pressed her cheek to hers. "Forget lovely. Mom, we look _hot_."

She laughed, wrapping her arm around her daughter's shoulder. This child... Life was _never_ dull with her. "I don't know the last time I heard that," she mused, kissing her head

"Yeah, right," she scoffed, reaching for one of the cosmetic tubes. "Like Daddy doesn't tell you that at least once a day."

She shrugged innocently, fluffing her own hair. "Daddy has never said that to me."

"Oh my God," she sighed dramatically as she blotted her lips. "Maybe his _mouth_ never says it, but his _eyes_ do every time he looks at you. I mean, _obviously_."

Ah, to be seventeen again and so confident you had an answer for everything. She merely smiled in response and patted her daughter's hand. "Did you decide on your toast?" she whispered, watching her husband in the reflection. He was thumbing through a stack of papers and nodding to the person on the other end.

"I'm going to wing it," she replied, twisting the cap back onto the mascara. "Cait's doing the sentimental toast. Sean's doing the funny one. I guess I'll go for the element of surprise."

Didn't that sum up their three children in a nutshell? Sentimental, funny, and a surprise. "I'm sure Daddy will love it."

"Love what?" Gregory asked, ripping off the earpiece and tossing it on the bed. He placed his hands on her shoulders, playfully squeezing as he continued, "Is this about the surprise party I'm not supposed to know about?"

"The big 6-5," their daughter teased, glancing up at them with Gregory's smirk on her face. And, as she had done for every day of their daughter's life, Olivia sent up a prayer of thanks. She was thankful Evy continued the tradition of inheriting her own mother's blonde hair. She was thankful that Evy and Sean had Gregory's brown eyes. She was thankful for the unconscious mannerisms Evy copied from Gregory: his grin, his laugh, even his temper.

She was thankful that she had no reason to wonder who Evy's father was any longer.

"-a lot of planning! Right, Mom?"

Olivia quickly nodded, feeling his hands gently massage her shoulders. "Yes, darling," she said as Evy stood and smoothed the A-line skirt of her dress. "And, I'm sure Daddy will pretend to be _very_ surprised." Of course, there was no way to surprise her husband. Not anymore. The news of her third pregnancy had been the last time she was truly able to catch him off-guard. Surprises involved lies and that was something she vowed to never do to him ever again. No matter what. "Won't you, darling?" she asked as she leaned her head back to look at him.

He leaned down, gently kissing her. "About as surprised as you'll be in November at _your_ birthday party," he murmured against her lips. "The big 6-0."

She groaned and shook her head as Evy giggled. "Sixty," she laughed. "Wow, Mom." The teenager ignored the death stare she sent her as she took her husband's hand and stood. "And, I'll be eighteen." The girl squared her shoulders and smiled knowingly. "That's a big deal, right? Big enough to invite my friends up to the cabin for a party, right?"

She leaned against Gregory's chest as his arm went around her. "_Evelyn_, not tonight."

Their daughter recognized her complete name as the warning it was and her face fell. "Fine," she sighed as she dramatically rolled her eyes. "I'll meet you downstairs."

Gregory chuckled beneath his breath as their daughter left their bedroom, sulking. She arched her eyebrow and turned to him. "She's _not_ having her party at the cabin."

"Of course not," he scoffed, locking his arms around her waist. "Not unsupervised."

"Ha!" She shook her head as she smoothed the lapels of his suit's coat. "That's the _last_ thing she wants." Her eyes flashed as she pressed her chest to his. "Remember being eighteen?" she asked, her voice low.

He slowly nodded as he watched her closely. "Which is precisely why she won't be left alone with any boy."

"Don't you trust her?" she murmured, her arms around his neck.

"Evy, I trust. The boys, I don't."

She playfully shook her head and clicked her tongue. "I wish I'd known you when you were eighteen."

He laughed, genuine amusement painted on his face. "Thomas would've run me out of town if I'd gotten anywhere near a thirteen-year-old you," he pointed out.

"Oh, well," she sighed as he drew her closer. His hair was lighter with silver. She made more frequent visits to her colorist. His face and middle were softer. She gave up dessert three years ago. As for their wrinkles, Father Time certainly left his mark on each of them. But, wasn't the spark _still_ there? Didn't he still make her feel like the nineteen-year-old who tripped into his arms one night at a bonfire? Hadn't their love strengthened with each subsequent year?

"-I need to be?"

"Hmm?"

"How surprised do I need to be?" he repeated and she chuckled.

"Surprised enough so that our children, grandchildren, and three hundred of our friends and business associates don't feel cheated. How often do they get to surprise the great Gregory Richards?" she asked and he rolled his eyes. "_And_, try not to roll your eyes. It'll spoil it."

He shook his head. "I can still surprise you."

She nodded deeply as she leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Yes. And, I promise to be very surprised at my own birthday party too," she said.

A crooked smile came to his face as he whispered, "I'm retiring, Liv." She froze, the breath caught in her throat as he continued, "Daily practice, the chairmanship, the traveling, all of it." She slowly shook her head, instantly remembering all the times over the last year that he refused to even consider the subject of retirement. He only nodded in reply and she blinked, unable to do anything else. "I should be able to transition out of everything in ten months. Evy will be leaving for college after that." He shrugged and she felt his hands cup her face. "Then, it's just us."

It was all for her.

Everything he did was for _her_.

She nodded, grinning like the girl she once was. "Just us," she sighed, tucking her head beneath his chin as he hugged her tight.

THE END.


End file.
